


Non-Consensual Cuddling

by Lotofpain



Series: Non-Consensual Cuddling [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Non-Consensual Cuddling, and neither is it angsty, i cant even put fluff in the tags cause its not that fluffy, idek, im gonna stop bullshitting in the tags now, its a category on its own, like serioulsy, more to come - Freeform, strangers to cuddle buddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3864406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotofpain/pseuds/Lotofpain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry loses his sense of direction when he's drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-Consensual Cuddling

**Author's Note:**

> All the mistakes are mine! Thank you indigoafternoon.tumblr.com and messedupbclarry.tumblr.com for the spelling check!  
> This is something i wrote a while ago, and the next part is already mostly finished (theres the editing to do) so i'm putting it as a one shot but there's more to come :)  
> Hope you enjoyyyyyy!

It’s 3 a.m. and Louis is going to kill that person. That person making noises outside his room, in the hallway of the hotel. And what’s worse, that person isn’t only making noises in the hallway, he’s also making noises on _Louis’_ door. A soft rattle, and what sounds a lot like frustrated grunts, punctuated with clatters and shakes of the door handle.

Louis doesn’t care that it sounds like someone’s trying to break in, he doesn’t care that it could be a murderer, because right now, he’s the murderous one. He was about to fall asleep, just on the edge, he could feel it coming after hours and hours of turning from side to side under the soft sheets of the hotel bed. He yanks the sheets off himself and strides angrily to the door, shirtless and with only his thin boxers hiding his precious possessions. He unlocks the security chain and yanks the door open.

“What. The. Actual. f-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as a figure passes by him and into the room, completely ignoring his presence. Whoever it is starts stripping off his clothes, _all of his clothes_. By the way he stumbles and trips on his pant legs, he seems pretty much intoxicated.

And also by the way he face-smashes into the bed the second everything is off.

“What the fuck…?” Louis says again, more confused than angry this time.

 The moon filters through the curtain and Louis can see the outline of a long, lean body: infinitely long legs, the swell of a cute little bum, a torso going for on and on and a messy head of curls. The figure, -- a man-- moves around a bit in the bed, wiggling and getting comfortable while making small moans and sighs.

His breath starts to even out after a moment and everything indicates to Louis that he’s falling asleep, and that’s what snaps him out of it. There’s a drunken stranger slumbering in his sheets.

Louis closes his mouth, that’s been gaping like a fish for the last minute or so, and walks to the bed, a shiver passing through him, reminding him of the state of clothing he’s in. He tries to avoid looking at the other man’s tight little ass and also tries not to recoil at the strong smell of alcohol coming off him. He smells like he drank the whole bar by himself.

He puts a delicate hand on the man’s shoulder and shakes gently, trying to rouse him up.

The man grunts in what Louis guesses is annoyance, then raises his little head of curls to look up to him with bleary eyes. He’s younger than Louis had thought, with the height and all, but again Louis is kind of short for a man. With another glance, he gives the boy around eighteen or nineteen.

“What’ rya doin in ma room maate?” He slurs. He’s even drunker than Louis had thought.

Louis seems to take too long to answer because the boy’s eyes suddenly narrow and then he’s checking Louis out. Louis tries not to shift too nervously under the heavy stare.

His next move is quite unexpected. The boy grabs Louis by the wrist and tries to pull him in, but Louis resists.

 “‘The fuck man?!” He says in an attempt to yank his hand free. But the boy is stronger than what his lithe arms let suppose, and he finally drags Louis down with him, easily passing a hand around Louis’s waist and pulling him even closer, until their bodies are a single line. “Let me go!” Louis squeaks. But the boy only nuzzles into the crook of his neck, getting comfy.

 “Shu’ up man I’m drunk and tired an’ you’re pretty. I say let’s cu’dle” He says it with a point of finality, as if it’s the most natural thing to do.

And Louis relaxes. Because he finally understands. He finally gets it.

It’s a dream. It’s just a big, stupid dream. He must have saw the boy in a TV ad or something and thought he was fit. That’s why he was cuddling with him in his dreams, in the hotel room… Why is he even in a hotel to begin with? Oh right: his two best friends are getting married and they decided that going out of town would be a nice change, and now Louis is dreaming of a cute, young man sharing his bed. It’s been obviously too long since Louis’ last relationship, if he’s dreaming about something like this. He makes a mental note to try and get laid during his stay, but for now, this dream is enough. He shifts around a bit and wraps his own arms around the slim body glued to him and he can feel his lids becoming heavier. He’s going to fall asleep in a dream... What a weird dream.

But still, what a nice dream.


End file.
